


Say It

by RanXiaoLong



Category: Yorushika (Band)
Genre: Ambiguity, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Song: Itte (Yorushika), Songfic, ヨルシカ - 言って。
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RanXiaoLong/pseuds/RanXiaoLong
Summary: What sort of message were you supposed to send? write one more memo at the end of the summer, so don't forget it. What sort of message were you supposed to convey to a person who has drifted into the haze? Where had those days of summer fled to? I keep looking over this note that you left, but I can't see this invisible ink explaining what I'm trying to understand. So, please...More, more, more...Once more, clearly, say it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Say It

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Itte(Say It) by Yorushika. I recommend checking the song out as well as their other works. I believe having background knowledge of the song helps understand the fic. Song fics aren’t really my style, but this is a special exception. Here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F64yFFnZfkI 
> 
> Translated captions are provided, so please turn them on if you don’t understand Japanese!

**_Say it._ **

You looked to the sky from where you lay on the floor. Blue. The only colour in this monochrome world. The sticky summer air drifted lazily, an occasional gust of wind a small blessing in the overwhelming heat. Was the heat the one prompting your thoughts? Or was that just the casualty of the summer? Last overwhelming days of heat, the afternoon comparatively chilly warning of the fall that was to come.

The chirping of cicadas through the sweltering day, the window open begging for a breeze to pass. Why did this feel so foreign and resigned? This was the same as every summer. Yet, nothing was.

The light notes of the windchime suddenly seemed heavy. Each ring was a note that was swimming in unfamiliarity. Each note rang on absent ears.

You turned your head to the side, a chair that was previously filled, now empty. Dust gathered with no person coming to sweep it aside, boisterous laughs ringing along with the chime on a hot summer day. No company was to arrive.

Your eyelids slid closed. A heavy breath entered your lungs.

**_You see, I've actually realized already_ **

**_Look, about that thing you said_ **

You turned away from the chair, sitting up. You ignored your sticky joints as you stood up, shuffling to the door slowly. You pulled on a pair of sneakers, doing up the laces. You stuffed a pencil and a small notepad in your pocket before you pushed open the door to your apartment. Locking the door, you faced the street, still under the awning above your door.

The summer heat bared down on the streets, the asphalt seeming to sizzle under the sun.

A sigh left your lips.

You stepped into the sun, slowly making your way down the street.

**_I didn't feel like thinking about it too much_ **

You continued your way down the street, eventually turning down a small street off of the main road. Cinder blocks lined the street, forming a wall between houses and the street. Cherry trees lining the road provided spotty shade from the sun, the full branches vibrant greens. You kicked a pebble down the road.

**_So I had forgotten about it, but_ **

On an ill-timed scuff of your shoe, the pebble bounced off course, falling into the gutter, a distinct plop heard. Your eyes stayed glued to the spot the pebble disappeared from your view a second longer. All it was was one wrong step.

You continued forward, hands buried in your pockets.

Just one wrong step.

You eventually stopped in front of a quiet building. An old apartment building you used to always visit. Well, what was the point of coming back? 

Eyes lidded in lethargy, you pushed forward. You took your time climbing the steps that went up the side of the building. Climbing the steps, you eventually came to a stop at the platform to the fourth floor. You turned to gaze over the balcony. You approached the railing, leaning against it as you gazed at the view. A sweltering town, even with the bugs and typical noises of summer, seemed too quiet. Even with chirping bugs, buzzing insects, and the rhythm of summer, it was too quiet. There was a certain noise missing.

Everything was a monochrome blue.

**_Living blindly, recklessly, delusionally_ **

You continued down your path, another building-old-full of long lost memories that refused to fully surface. Were they refusing on their own? Or was this just another barrier? Another miss-step?

**_Impulsively, impatiently, negatively didn't do me any good_ **

You took in the view from the top floor of the concrete building.

Branches covered in greens splattered the canvas of the ground, splashes of colour across the horizon. Multistory buildings were drawn in broad strokes, many singular houses separated by roads and cinder block walls stamped across the landscape. Despite the steady thrum of noise from insects in the midday sun, none were visible in the heat. Not even birds seemed to flit across the blue sky.

Monochrome blue.

The whole world was that monochrome blue.

**_I'm sure that on the last day of my life, when I think of what's gone before_ **

**_All of it, all of it will be unspeakably precious, but_ **

Your eyes glance downward from the skyline, the pavement spotted with shadows front the branches. Stagnant, sticky air clings to your skin.

Ghosts hung onto the cracked pavement.

Was this the view they saw? What was that thought? 

What was that thought that passed through their head? That note they left behind, could it ever truly tell every word left unspoken?

Every character left upon the page, left for you to read, would you ever understand it all? Each word, so ambiguous. If it was just a bit more clear to you...

Just slightly, even just a little…

What would they say?

**_Ah, on that last day of my life, you won't be there—_ **

You looked back up to the sky. Monochrome blue. Was this the sight they saw? These heavy emotions, what were they? The ones that pushed them?

From this high place, what were these swirling emotions?

**_More, more, more_ **

Would you ever understand?

**_Once more, clearly, say it_ **

You continued aimlessly, unsure where to go. 

Where did they like to go? Did it matter anymore? 

That chair was still collecting dust. The desk where they sat, no one had written lyrics on that surface for a while. Not since those elusive words that were left at the dock. There was only the lone paper, and those words written in deep indigo. 

Those words you couldn’t fully decipher…

What exactly were they? That note? Could you understand their thoughts?

You should ask tomorrow.

Maybe you’d stop at that cafe… 

Or not. You only went on rainy days, and this sticky summer heat doesn’t feel the same. Now wasn’t the time to make new habits. But the atmosphere did always help you to write.

Maybe you’d stop by later. Maybe there was going to be a later. 

You couldn’t be sure, because that elusive lyric left for you to decipher pushed you further and further. If only it told you why. Why did they go to the dock that day? What prompted their journey into deep indigo?

**_You see, I'm not sure how to tell you that the sky is blue_ **

You sat on the ledge of a construction site, the breeze lightly passing. Far too little of a breeze for a hot summer day, but something like that doesn’t matter, right?

How were you to explain events? Ones so unchangeable, so apparent, yet ones you couldn’t stop mulling over. There were certain truths left unsaid, yet everything was there. So why were there so many questions? What was that line? What lyric explained this?

What lyric in that note they left, which one explained the obvious?

How do you explain to someone that the sky is blue? 

How do you explain the fact that they were…

**_Or what I'd have to do to make you understand that the clouds at night are high_ **

You left your previous perch, entering an old abandoned apartment complex. You slowly climbed the stairs, reaching the highest level. Once you reached the top of the stairs of the fourth floor, you noticed a rectangle of light leaking into the worn structure. There was an open window, the glass long since removed from the concrete structure. You sat on the ledge, gazing out to the sky.

How were you to convey to someone who wouldn’t hear you that the summer was at an end? Those long-ago days were at a close, those days with them were...

Should you turn away?

You wanted to confront this dilemma tomorrow.

That octopus clinging to your side, rose from the deep indigo ocean and wouldn’t let go. That memory of them absent at the dock wouldn’t go away. Had it risen from the sea? From that place you fell? Was it a message, one they could no longer write in that deep indigo?

_**Say it** _

You bite the end of your pen, hesitating before you mark the paper. What sort of note were you to write to a person who would never read it? You pulled the pen away from your lips, the tip landing on the sheet. Maybe you should just write recklessly into oblivion...

_These emotions, I’ll lock away. I don’t want to face them. I set them aside as a problem for tomorrow. But you won’t be there tomorrow, will you? Even if I have to continue alone, I know I’ll make it. This octopus refusing to let go, I’m sure if I ignore it it will cease to exist. So I’ll just stare into this deep indigo._

_How long ago, how far in the distant past. Just how much has changed since those days? I was in love, always in love, and I always loved music. But I suppose, it doesn’t matter now._

You let your pen rest on the paper as the words flitted from your mind. 

What were you to write to someone who would no longer read your note? What were those lyrics you wrote to them so long ago?

You lifted the pen from the paper, the deep indigo splotch spreading through the note. The entire world was that deep indigo. So distant from the blue sky… What sort of note were you to write?

_Will I ever understand your motive to leap? Into that deep indigo like the inky ocean?_

_Could I ever?_

_Will you hear my voice?_

_Could I give you a call tomorrow?_

**_You see, I actually know_ **

It was nothing more than a hopeful fantasy. Fantasies were made, but never created to be executed. 

**_That you're already gone_ **

Fantasies were a manifestation of desperation.

Nothing more.

And this note would fade into deep indigo.

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of the acceptance crush you. Because there was absolutely nothing, nothing that you could do. You could deny it, push aside it, pretend it doesn’t exist, but that won’t change the empty seat where they used to sit. The dust will still gather, nothing to sweep it aside. They won’t be returning no matter how much you wish it. 

This time, there wasn’t tomorrow.

**_You see, you'll probably just call me obstinate, and I want to forget, but_ **

You continued to scratch on the pad of paper.

_I wish…_

Could you continue to deny it? Forget everything that happened? 

There was no way, right? No matter how much you wished it to be true. Because this was a past that could not be changed.

But if you continued to stubbornly believe, maybe the past would disappear. Because that had worked before.

**_Say it more clearly_ **

**_Make a note so you don't forget it_ **

**_Let's meet tomorrow at ten on the train platform, or something like that_ **

_Can you write a note so as to not forget? Write one more note so that it’s not forgotten. Where’s that memo I asked for?_

There were missing words, there were words left blank that didn’t answer all the questions you had. What were the lines between the lyrics that they had left behind? What were those invisible words that you couldn’t pin down? They always wrote in deep indigo, so why was this ink invisible?

_Hey, do you remember that train station where we would always meet? Let’s take that train again. Wherever it takes us. Let’s meet to chat and catch up. Let’s go to that cafe, the one we would go to when it rained. There’s a lot of questions you still haven’t answered._

**_Even if its petals scatter, a peony is still a flower_ **

**_Even if the summer ends, the memories of it are still cherished_ **

You couldn’t decide what to write. There was something missing you wanted to convey, but what was it? Those missing words? There was a memory from long ago...

_And when summer ends, it still is cherished. Life is supposed to be remembered._

A mirthless smile edged onto your lips. Life was supposed to be remembered? Wasn’t that what they said? Then what were you doing? Was this denial? Or was this confrontation? Why was it so unclear? 

You knew the answer.

Because no matter how you tried to frame it, there was no changing it. You knew that. Just because you refused to look it in the face didn’t mean it would change. It was always there, hanging in the background. You couldn’t change that empty chair collecting dust. 

Your words were a cheap imitation. You had no interest in learning music, but you wanted to understand the world they lived in. Maybe if you decoded their lyrics back then, these ones sitting in your hand wouldn’t be here. These words wouldn’t have been left for you to find.

**_Put it into words, give voice to it_ **

What sort of message were you supposed to send? write one more memo at the end of the summer, so don't forget it. What sort of message were you supposed to convey to a person who has drifted into the haze? Where had those days of summer fled to? I keep looking over this note that you left, but I can't see this invisible ink explaining what I'm trying to understand. So, please...

**_Say it_ **

On those final last days of summer, would they even ever be remembered? Or was the only evidence the time captured down on paper? Was there a phrase that could hold them in mind, or was everything doomed to be forgotten, because that’s the easier solution when nobody’s looking? 

_So what were those lyrics you left at the dock? With the bottle that I wish I never saw? One was self-explanatory, the green dye absent inside. But what of the other? I keep scanning through these lines, praying for an answer. What emotions did you feel when you took that jump?_

You sighed, your pen refusing to move.

All this endless writing, and yet you couldn’t find the words to properly say. 

You hesitated. Might as well, since this would be your last letter. 

_I wanted to see you on the last day of my life._

**_And then if I could see you on the last day of my life_ **

You fold the piece of paper carefully, aligning the edges before pressing down to make any creases, steadily, until the note was folded into an airplane. You smoothed out the paper one more time, delicate touches preventing any unwanted creases across the paper.

You faced back up towards the sky. Blue. The only colour in this monochrome world.

You lifted your arm, pushing it out against the sky, your fingers pushing the paper through the air. The note glided along the trajectory you pushed it towards, slowly descending. Your shoulders slumped slightly.

**_I'm sure, even on the last day of my life, that I'd sing of love_ **

A sudden gust of fresh summer wind swept past, your hair dancing in front of your face. Your eyes widened, the paper airplane rising with the breeze.

**_Because you'd tell me none of it, none of it was in vain_ **

The note soared high into the air, the breeze lifting it above the rooftops and out of sight, higher and higher into the sky. As the paper disappeared, you couldn’t help the hopefulness, imagining, reckless dreaming.

A prayer that your note would reach them.

You added one more line to your note mentally. 

_I will cherish these memories, even if you’re gone._

**_Ah, I still can't believe that on the last day of my life, you won't be here_ **

Even beyond the rooftops, even if you could no longer reach them. Even if hopeful wishing was all in vain, ah—

You gazed from the top window. Blue. 

That was their favorite colour, wasn’t it?

**_More_ **

From the high window where you were perched, you closed your eyes. Drifting, slowly, thoughtlessly. You could only imagine what thoughts rushed through their head, but…

**_More_ **

If you could just understand those thoughts.

**_More_ **

You couldn’t help the longing, but you could accept what has passed.

**_More_ **

There was no rewinding the clock, all you could do was decode the lyrics.

**_More_ **

You would just need to try once more.

**_More_ **

Just one more time.

**_More_ **

If it was just more clear.

**_You have to_ **

Even as the haze of summer drew to a close, those precious memories would always stay with you.

**_More_ **

Those long-ago seeming afternoons, smiling in the sun, they would stay with you until your last days on earth.

**_More_ **

So you would read through them once more, that last note.

**_More_ **

Those last words entrusted to you, you would decode them as best you could. Maybe the meaning behind them would suddenly become clear.

**_More_ **

So you’d lift your head up high and continue, because that’s all you could do.

**_Once more_ **

But it would be nice… 

**_More clearly_ **

If there was just another line saying why.

**_Say it_ **

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is quite a bit different from my usual content, and I will be back to posting it after my finals are over, but I felt in necessary personally to write this. So I send this note, and I hope reaches that deep indigo.


End file.
